Disclaimer: This story contains content that should not be read by people underneath the age of 21. It is 100% fiction and has no bearing on reality whatsoever. 100% fiction means real life rape is WRONG. The author does not condone illegal and immoral actions described. If you feel rape in the real world is a good thing, bend over in a prison and whistle dixie. While I'm disclaiming, racism, homophobia and other bigotry of any kind are also really fucking stupid. I don't own Harry Potter series, or any of the characters and make no profit from this story. Please read the story codes to ensure that you are not going to be offended by, or otherwise dislike, the content. Story based on request and input from Maxxx7491.

Description: With nothing to lose, Amelia Bones gives into her lifelong darkest fantasies and forcefully takes Harry as an unwilling sex slave.

Given his limited available movement, the hours in the cell passed slowly and uncomfortably for the boy who itched. In some ways being locked into the cell was nothing new to Harry. He'd been badly treated all his early life, though not sexually, never sexually, and so didn't descend into quite the shell-shocked state others might've done. Ron would've been catatonic. Having left him in the dark he assumed Madam Bones had dressed and gone about her business, the wider wizarding world oblivious to her seemingly insatiable sexual insanity. He was sure that if his dear friend Tonks had suspected this, she would never have led him into Madam Bones' grasp. That middle-aged witch had left him bruised by her roughness; it was additionally humiliating to have been beaten up by an 'old woman,' as healthy as her body had been. Beaten, cuffed and collared, dragged about like a naughty puppy on a leash.

If he closed his eyes, he saw over and over Madam Bones' lust crazed face as she revealed her lingerie clad body. Once, the idea of Ginny wearing a similar outfit would've been teenage paradise, but now the indelible association with his rape haunted his thoughts. The sweaty sex smell of his rape rose from his body, reminding him equally harshly that he'd actually ejaculated inside Madam Bones. He felt like the worst, cheapest, kind of filthy slut. Not fit to romance Ginny. Shuddering at the memory, he cried out with rage at the unbidden thought, 'It felt good.' Eventually, exhausted and shamed, he slid into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

It took considerable effort for Madam Bones not to spend the night masturbating. After a tough day at work, two fingers of scotch and elsewhere had been her tradition for many years. However, she didn't want to exhaust herself nor leave herself too sore to enjoy her new sex slave. She'd probably been lucky that none of her colleagues had stood too close to her after she'd left Harry in his cell; she'd smelled as strongly as he under her robes, and her thighs carried a dried reminder of the hard fuck on her office floor. She slept happily, a smile on her face, and prepared for an early start the following day.

Harry awoke hungry. The same cold light filled the cell; he had no way to tell if it was the following morning, or still the same night. He needed to urinate, but didn't want to be found in a pool of his own piss. Looking through the one un-cracked lens of his trademark round glasses, the 16 year old boy again searched the cell for any means of escape, or weapon, or release. Shifting slightly in his chains, his limbs exploded in pins and needles and brought a pained moan from the teenager's dry lips. The chains clanked loudly as he tried to shake life properly into his stiffened joints. There wasn't enough give, and he just knew that when he moved properly it would hurt. Even so, when Madam Bones opened the door, he was almost relieved at the approaching opportunity to move his limbs.

Amelia Bones had also awoken hungry; not for food, but for Harry Potter's big organ to be sheathed inside her again. Those who'd known her the longest at the department only guessed that she was heavily pre-occupied as she rushed through her morning meetings. They had no idea that beneath her robes she wore only thigh-length black leather boots, nor that she'd bought a jar of freshly prepared lubricant in with her. It was a wonder she didn't drip on the floor as she walked back into her private office, and flung wide the hidden cell door. Placing the lubricant jar down, she slid out of her robes, and stood naked, but for the boots, before her slave. She regarded him for a moment, enjoying the distaste and despair etched in his young eyes, before turning on heel and returning to her office. She took up a bowl of cold meats and cheese, a small bottle of water, and a bucket, and strode right up to Harry. Putting the food and water to one side, she took a firm hold on his floppy cock, and held the bucket at an angle beneath it.

Harry found his normally reliable shy bladder was overruled by the pressure in his gut. Directed by Madam Bones' warm hand, he let loose a stream into the bucket. He could see she enjoyed his embarrassment at pissing in front of her, for her eyes flicked continuously from his face, to the stream, until he was done. She tugged back his foreskin, and shook out the last drops. After placing the bucket in the corner of the cell, she lifted her fingers and enjoyed the smell of Harry's cock.

"If you call me anything other than Goddess today," she advised conversationally, "I'll make you drink every drop of your 'amber nectar', slave. I trust that you understand."

Harry did. He gulped, and nodded, and said "Yes, Goddess."

"Now, we'd better keep your strength up, hadn't we?"

Madam Bones walked back to Harry, and reached for the food. He assumed that she was going to feed him with her fingers, but instead she held the bowl to his face. Clearly, he was expected to eat from it like an animal. Since his admittedly slim chances of escape would depend on strength, he did so. At the very first bite of cold cooked sausage, he realised Madam Bones had rubbed the meat against herself. Intimately. Her juices contaminated the whole bowl. Shuddering, he forced himself to eat every scrap and morsel that he could; meanwhile Madam Bones ruffled his hair like the owner of a prize dog petting show champion.

"Good boy. Here."

As a reward she allowed him to drink the water straight from the bottle, rather than lapping at it. Well, no sense wearing out his tongue too soon.

"Goddess, why? Why are you doing this to me? I've never done anything bad, and you were fair at the hearing."

"Stupid question, slave," she spat, contemptuously, and continued, "the only reason any woman of power should do anything: because I want to. You want it too, or you wouldn't be cumming for me, slut."

Harry dropped his head at that, aware his face was red. The sensation of guilt, and shame, had dulled over night. The faded emotions tore back into him as Madam Bones spoke, and he thought for a moment that he might cry. Snivelling like a child before his rapist, though at 16 he ought to be acting like a man. Throughout much of the world, muggle and wizard, he would be considered adult. The humiliated Harry was barely aware of Madam Bones as she put the bowl and bottle back out of the cell. He wondered if she would release the cuffs on his arms, his ankles; the slave-tagged collar around his neck. He wondered too if she would only do so, so that she could prove again her ability to best him in a fight.

"I'll tell you what, slave. If you can stop yourself from cumming, I will let you go free."

Madam Bones had returned; there was enough flexibility in her leather boots as she knelt down before Harry, and looked up deviously from his crotch. She ran her tongue around her lips, letting her hot breath play across Harry's lightly haired scrotum. She didn't have a lot of personal experience at oral sex, but she'd viewed muggle guides on the techniques. Additionally, back in her active field days, she'd learned to train her gag reflex so she could swallow and bring up small extra tools while working undercover. Harry's considerably larger tool might prove a problem, but she didn't need it to go all the way to her stomach.

Harry balled his cuffed hands into firsts, and tried to resist. But his cock was already betraying him, and not yet even within Madam Bones' mouth. He imagined he could hear the blood pumping into his shaft as if it was thousands of gallons of water gushing over a cliff. He felt ticklish grey-blonde hair along his thighs as Madam Bones suddenly swallowed the crown of his cock, swirling her tongue around within his foreskin. His whole body twitched as his cock surged to full, hard, length almost immediately. Screwing his eyes shut, Harry pressed his head back against the wall, and tried to imagine anything to take him away from the hot wet pleasure at his groin. Madam Bones' roughness, the occasional tooth catching sensitive skin, it all seemed to increase rather than delay the pleasure. He couldn't stifle a groan.

The sweaty taste of Harry's old-sex dirty cock should have been revolting, but in Madam Bones' extreme state of arousal, it was heavenly. She couldn't get enough of the teenager's organ. Lashing the head of his cock with her tongue, she moaned around it, swallowing the length as her face moved down, deeper, deeper, until her lips pressed into Harry's downy bush. Her jar and throat felt stretched around his hot and hard teenage shaft, bent into her gullet. She didn't need her hands at all; she let them roam across his athletic chest, his toned thighs, and tickle down under his balls.

Moving her head jerkily, Madam Bones sucked and licked at the cock of a teenage boy decades younger than herself. His youth, his virility, all seemed concentrated in the thick shaft she slammed her face down upon, seeking almost to conjure and consume greater length each time. She could hear him sobbing, wordlessly urging himself not to come, not to ejaculate, but within less than a minute his scrotum was tight as a nut at the base of his shaft. Pulling back, she sucked hard, nibbling and licking at his engorged crown. His foreskin was tight down around his expanded shaft, the collar of his raging erection. He was ready to pop. She giggled like a schoolgirl.

Harry had tried, truly he had. Whether she would have really let him go, or not, he'd played the game. But Madam Bones' mouth felt so good on him, so unique in all his life's experience, that every attempt to imagine some unsexy thought, to will away his hardness, had corrupted in his minds eye until he was too scared to even try and imagine Dobby. Thrashing in his cuffs and chains as much as he able, his voice took on a higher and higher pitch as Madam Bones drew him on before spitting his cock out, and wrapping her still surprisingly firm breasts energetically around it.

"NO!"

"Yes!"

Harry spurted like a fountain, splashing his chest as far up as his chin, great gouts of spunk as if some kind of sperm-transporting artery had been severed. Dribbles ran down onto Madam Bones' splash-sticky breasts as she milked Harry's shaft until nothing more emerged from the snake's eye. Even then, his erection didn't dissipate entirely. His body was too pumped full of hormone-infused teenage lust. His mind too had betrayed him with a smutty torrent of pornographic images as Madam Bones suckled on him. He slumped on the cell's bunk, hardly moving as Madam Bones hungrily licked up the long streams of seed Harry had sprayed himself with, before scooping the last dribbles from her breasts. Though his lungs burned with exertion, she was hardly even breathing faster. Her tongue worked erotically across his heaving chest, licking across his hard nipples and tasting sperm and sweat entwined.

"You're a filthy little semen factory, slave. This is what you're really good for. You're worthless for anything except doing what I tell you, and pleasuring me. Look at you! I've seen garden hoses that sprayed with less force. If this was your trial, you'd be guilty of wanting to come for an old witch. You really are a slut!"

Amelia had to admit that she wasn't exactly good at degrading dirty talk, but Harry was too traumatised to do anything but take it seriously.

"No! You made me do it, Goddess, I'm not... not a slut."

"You are, slave. You're a slutty slave in your sexy chains. Hmmm... I bet you must have a few itches to scratch?"

The change of tone came out of nowhere to Harry's distressed mind. He was reminded of his itching nose from the night before. He wasn't going to ask for anything from Madam Bones though. Not one thing. Not that she needed him too. She scratched softly at his limbs, and then stood, putting one booted foot next to Harry on the bunk. He could feel the cool leather against his thigh as Madam Bones' positioned her most intimate area right before his face.

"Come on, scratch your nose..."

So close, Harry could see the faint evidence of her depilatory endeavours. The hairlessness of Madam Bones' whole crotch area served only to allow Harry unrestricted access to the sight, smell and taste of her mature labia. Her arousal was obvious, even to one who didn't really have a lot of experience - the very few magazines of Uncle Vernon's that Harry had seen in those pre-internet days had featured younger, airbrushed models. She was virtually dripping, glistening like a sweetmeat over blood-swollen lips. Had Harry been a willing participant, he might have found the smell appealing, but Madam Bones scent seemed to turn his stomach, even as his wilted cock struggled back towards its erect state.

"What... what do you want?" Harry gulped, "Goddess?"

"Start with your nose, then your tongue... if you behave I'll un-cuff your hand and you can use your fingers."

Harry lent forward, and brushed his nose at the edge of Madam Bones' pussy. She guessed he wouldn't give the best oral sex, but she'd not had overmuch to compare it with and, anyway, she would get off on the power and the control more than the sex. Gripping his slave collar suddenly, she ground her folds across his face, smearing her arousal around his nose and across his cheeks. Harry yelped, surprised, as his glasses were threatened with being knocked loose again. She snarled,

"Lick my cunt, slave! Lick it!"

Shocked by the urgent demand of Madam Bones' command, Harry's tongue lashed out, awash with Madam Bones' intimate flavours. Cuffed and helpless, Harry gave head to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. She released her grip on his collar, and reached to her nipples. Massaging her breasts, Madam Bones humped against Harry's face. His head was knocked painfully back against the wall as he sought to keep his tongue in contact. For a first time, unskilled tongue-fucker, Harry was still hitting the right spot enough to drive Madam Bones towards her peak. Her groans grew louder, half-coherent degrading insults mixed in with wordless cries.

"Your fingers, slave," she managed, "get them in me!"

Her own were shaking so much that getting Harry's cuff loose was almost impossible. She managed it, dragging his hand to her body. She doubted he would try anything stupid with three limbs still bound, and needed the extra stimulation. She got it. Harry's fingers pressed into the folds of her quim, prodding in quite the wrong place. Madam Bones rebuked him sharply,

"Not there! Fool! Here!"

Harry had somehow managed to poke a finger at her far too small urethra. As a sign of his utter inexperience in sexual matters, Madam Bones found it mildly exciting. She urgently moved his hand until she could slide two of his fingers inside her. She was tightly snug about the probing digits, and humped against both Harry's hand and face.

"That's it!"

Harry wanted to beg Madam Bones to stop, to let him catch his breath, but there was no chance of either happening. He could feel the heat around his fingers almost as if he'd plunged them into a mug of tea. The heat and wet arousal coming from his rapist's crotch was like being caught within a tropical storm. She was clearly very close. He pumped harder, licking above his fingers at the nub. Hard and seeming oversized beneath his tongue, he drew the strongest reaction yet from the middle-aged witch.

Madam Bones responded like she'd been hit with electricity. Screaming like a damned soul, she came explosively across the bound schoolboy's face, drenching his hair and smearing even his un-cracked glass lens to worthlessness. He thought she had pissed over him, but there was not quite the acrid smell he'd expect. He tugged his fingers free, and thought, just for a moment, of trying to swing a punch at her jaw. The idea of being found, chained up, with her naked at his feet stopped the action. Deeply ashamed of his fear and co-operation, his head drooped, dripping, down to his chest.

Madam Bones barely managed to swing her leg down before she collapsed on the bunk beside Harry. She leant across him, nuzzling his chest with her tongue almost affectionately as aftershocks of pleasure sparked inside her belly. Brushing his cock with her fingers, she found him hard again, and her face formed a cruel smile. Flicking grey-blonde hair back, she smiled at Harry, her victim, and then pulled his glasses off again.

"You must have been trained at that. Is there something you want to tell me about Molly Weasley?"

"I... No!" Harry near-shouted.

He was shocked at the puerile innuendo about his best friend's mother. He could never imagine the motherly, yet still attractive Mrs Weasley doing as Madam Bones had done. The only problem was that before the previous 24 hours he'd have staked his life that Madam Bones would never do such a thing either. Suddenly Molly's accidentally walking in on him in the shower on his visit to The Burrow a few days before didn't seem so unintentional. Harry shook his head, made fists with his hands, and told himself that he couldn't ascribe the crimes of one mad witch to a good and honest woman.

"No! She's my friend, and my friends will come and help me. They will," Harry trailed off "...Goddess."

She chuckled, and trusting herself to walk, strolled shakily back to her office to clean Harry's glasses. Returning, she picked up the jar by the door and slipped them onto his face. He focussed again, and she showed him the lubricant label on the side of the jar. Had he guessed what she intended? With her projected days of life limited, Amelia had a lot of fantasies to realise with her captured cock. She'd taken him in her quim, she'd taken him in her mouth... she still had one more place to fit him, and his uncontrollably hard organ told her he wouldn't resist. The rough blow job had hopefully taken the edge off, allowing her to fuck him for longer. She stepped backwards up onto the bunk and bent over in front of Harry's face. Again, her fitness levels showed through, as she bent down almost double to his cock with no sign of overstraining in her muscles, or flat, toned, tummy.

"Lick me again, slave. Put that tongue to use other than whining and self-delusion. You've already shown me how good you are with it..."

His head could pull no further back from Madam Bones' proffered anus. The solid wall of the cell was unyielding to human hair and skull. Though it looked clean, there was no denying what usually came from the bottom; even middle-aged witches pooped. She gave him no further time for thought or protest, pressing her big toned buttocks back towards Harry's face. Bent forward, she could begin to apply the contents of the jar to his cock.

"Will I have to force you, slave? I really don't mind."

Madam Bones tweaked Harry's balls. The tiny pressure was enough. He forced his face between her buttocks and licked her arsehole. It was surely the most revoltingly degrading moment of his life. At least the taste was not strong, and mostly of sweat. Madam Bones' soft moans were hugely appreciative, telling the shuddering schoolboy that he was hitting the sensitive nerve clusters with his licks.

The tiny rosebud looked far too small to accept Harry's cock. Even with the lubricating potion slapped all over his organ, and his saliva glistening on her skin, he doubted she could force him into her. He also knew beyond any doubt at all that she was going to try. His whole body shuddered, but, resigned, he probed deeper with his tongue. He doubted he would ever want to French kiss a girl again, not after doing something so similar to the middle-aged witch's virgin anus.

"Deeper, slave! Kiss inside me! Merlin's beard... you have your tongue in my arse and your cock is hard as an oak staff!"

Madam Bones own legs were starting to tremble in her precarious position, bent at the waste to lubricate Harry's organ. She remained as impressed with the teenager's length and girth as she had been when first she saw him unclothed. It hadn't taken at all long to coat the entire shaft and crown with her own-recipe lubricant, but she made sure to spread extra around the foreskin and crown, even as leaking pre-cum made slight trails in the thick fluid. The sexual stamina of her teenage slave was almost beyond her fantasies. She'd heard that boys Harry's age could climax six times in 24 hours, but hoped to set a new record with Harry - even if he was close to coming blood by the end! Finally she stood, but reached back for Harry's collar, and held his face between her buttocks for a few moments longer, grinding back until Harry's tongue was unwillingly pressed as deeply inside her as he could get it.

"Don't you dare spit on my floor..."

Harry gasped, spluttering, as Madam Bones hopped lightly down to the floor in a creaking of boot leather, but he didn't spit. He swallowed, tasting wholly the tainted sweat on his tongue. Blinking, he was dismayed to see that his cock was as hard as it felt. Standing virtually straight up against his body, it seemed to scream, 'Male Slut'. He was being sexually assaulted, and his body was co-operating! He sat motionless as Madam Bones released his remaining hand, and one ankle from his bonds, and then went down on his knees as she tugged him from the bunk. His limbs protested, having stiffened up overnight. She moved around, getting down in front of the ankle-chained boy. Her high leather boots creaked sharply, but she was satisfied they'd provide a barrier between skin and floor. The middle-aged witch wiggled back seductively until her arse rubbed against Harry's teenage shaft. She looked back, flicking her sweaty grey-blonde hair to one side, and throatily whispered,

"You've been such a good slave, are you ready to try something most boys your age would kill for?"

None of the old jokes about seduction by a teacher or other adult seemed funny to Harry after suffering real sexual assault. He thought for a split second of trying to attack Madam Bones from behind, and once again dismissed the thought of violence. Madam Bones would know he could make such an attempt, and hadn't even bothered to warn him off. She was obviously confident of her ability to defend herself, and of his unwillingness to possibly be trapped in the cell, in the office, with her recently fucked body. Eventually, someone would come and see his dried sperm and take it as evidence that his participation was consensual. Anyway, he could only try to resist co-operating further. It would be tough - caught in the cleft of her buttocks, his lubricated cock felt just too good. He looked away as she reached back to firmly grip his shaft, and push the crown into her tongue-fucked anus.

"It's going to be a tight fit," Madam Bones murmured.

There was a definite hint of pain in her voice. Harry grabbed Madam Bones' arse with both hands, and thrust forward with unexpected brutality. He thought this might be his only chance to hurt her, to get her back, and get away with it. If she wanted his big teenage cock in her virgin arse, she could bloody well have it. Though the lubricant did its job, the middle-aged witch squealed like a rutting thestral as Harry separately ground his teeth and his cock, getting close to balls deep on that first thrust. Without pausing, he pulled back hard, feeling a hot friction against his shaft, and then slammed in anew until his heavy balls slapped roughly and drew another squeal.

"How do you like it, Goddess? Is this what you want?"

Madam Bones cried out again, the same high pitched yelp, as she felt Harry's rough rutting. If only he could see her face, she thought, he'd know she loved the rough anal screwing her sex slave was giving her. She laughed in her mind, delighted that Harry appeared to think he was beating her. Keeping her weight on one hand, she looked down between her swinging breasts, and reached to frig her frothing quim. Harry's cock was a bringer of such delicious painful pleasure to her arse, but she wanted more.

"Yes, slave, yes! I want you to fuck me hard and come all over me!"

He realised he'd been had by the cunning Madam Bones even as he was being otherwise had by her. As she spoke, she looked back at him again with a face contorted with that same insane lust. He was fucking her as hard as he could, with all his teen athleticism, slamming his thick length deeply inside her arse... and she was closer to cumming than he was!

"No! I won't... I won't come again for you!"

Madam Bones ground back hard at Harry's crotch, squeezing down with her ring as if she was trying to expel the boy's cock from her body. She had three fingers stirring inside herself, and a juice slick thumb rubbing her stiff clitoris onwards to that ultimate pleasure. So many years of fucking she'd missed, so many years of being the prim and proper Auror and then Department Head. Only now, on her knees with an angry boy fucking her arse as if his life depended on it, only now was she the woman she was truly meant to be. A Queen, a sexual Goddess. Her body tensed as she drove herself on, drawing Harry into her hot depths, and then pulling free of his hardness,

"Come for me!" she screamed, barely human, as her climax began.

Harry's fingers gripped Madam Bones' toned hips hard enough to hurt as he tried one more time to deny the pleasure his body felt. There was no chance though and, eyes screwed tight, he only managed to pull his cock loose from the slurping depths and aim it across the middle aged witch's back. Something akin to a primal scream emerged from his lips as he came, thick spurts only slightly lesser than those of his earlier orgasm. The power of teenage male fertility! He even managed to spray as far as Madam Bones' hair, adding a pearly shimmer to the grey-blonde strands. Opening his teary eyes he saw her lying on the floor, pinching at a nipple with one hand as she fingered herself with the other, drawing out her pleasure.

"You're getting on well then?"

Two heads moved at once to see the new speaker. Nymphadora Tonks, back early from her undercover mission, and keen to report as soon as possible. If Madam Bones had known how often her subordinates practiced gaining entry to her office, she'd have improved her security.

"Tonks!" Harry cried, immeasurably relieved, "Oh thank... you have to get me out of here, Madam Bones is mad! She keeps raping me!"

"It's true, my dear. I've turned him into a fine little slave. A proper fuck puppet. Do you see the size of his cock, even now? You could help him, of course, or, you could join me. Won't take a moment to remove his memories later"

"You really are mad! Tonks would never help you over me! She's my friend."

Harry said so imperiously, and even dared spit the taste of Madam Bones from his mouth. The stream of sputum cut through the final strand of sperm that hung from his cock to her still shaking buttocks. His face fell though, as Tonks started to strip out of her clothes. Her hair flared from bright pink to a darker, whorish red.

"You bitch!"

"Well, slave, you've not read her file...but in truth, there's something in the psychological make up of all my Aurors' that would bring them to the same choice. It's a fine line between good and evil, so we've always operated in both. I knew which way she'd choose with a piece of meat like you on offer, but believe me when I say that you'll be very sorry for taking that tone of abuse with us..."

Back at 4 Privet Drive, the ensorcelled Harry had no conscious recollection of his time in Madam Bones' office, or the night in the cell. Tonks had told him that he'd been very helpful, but that for security reasons as a non-Auror they'd had to wipe his mind. He found himself starting away from his Aunt Petunia, and other older women, in a way he couldn't quite articulate even in thought. He found he kept reaching for his neck, expecting something around it. Had somebody tried to strangle him while he worked with the Aurors for those missing four days? He couldn't shake the feeling that Tonks had looked at him funnily, but assumed she'd come off badly in a fight against some criminal as she was walking rather tenderly.

Though he'd never dare question the great Madam Bones about his time at the Department, he fully intended to work more details from Tonks the next time he saw her. At the very least he wanted to know why she'd had to give him a new pair of glasses. He accepted it could be weeks or months before he saw his friend again. Thus, he was surprised when she arrived only a week later with a group of other Aurors in a Department minibus of decidedly old-fashioned aspect. He recognised several of her comrades from pictures besides stories in the Daily Prophet - some of them were quite senior in the Department. The uncomfortable, inexplicable, worry started in the back of his mind as he noticed they were all female, but he shook it off. If he couldn't trust Tonks, who could he trust...?

"Come on Harry," she said, "Tell your Uncle we'll have you back here in a few days. We all need to make use of you. There could be quite a few of these missions in your future, as long as we get you back to privet drive for that magical protection... I know you're happy to come with us."

...and as he climbed in, he was sure the giggles from the back, and the looks in their eyes, were not at all savoury.